


anyone who trusts a serpent deserves its bite

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crowley's Tongue (Good Omens), M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Snake-like features, discord made me do it, fangs, love that that's a canonical godbless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: Safety is for humans, after all. The holy blood that flows through Aziraphale's veins could kill Crowley in an instant, the slightest ting of hellfire venom and it could all be over. But when you've waited six thousand years, what's a little danger between lovers?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	anyone who trusts a serpent deserves its bite

**Author's Note:**

> Look... Sometimes.... snakey-Crowley....danger... I have no excuses; I blame this on the monsterserver. It's all their fault.
> 
> Title is from Alice Hoffman's "The Dovekeepers" - which I have not read but I googled quotes about serpents and this seemed fitting xD
> 
> This is unbeta'd and there are probably mistakes I wrote it in 5 minutes in a discord chat box.

There's a danger in this, in their brand of intimacy.

Safety is for humans, after all. The holy blood that flows through Aziraphale's veins could kill Crowley in an instant, the slightest ting of hellfire venom and it could all be over. But when you've waited six thousand years, what's a little danger between lovers?

Crowley looks up at him from the floor, lips stretched around the girth of his cock, nose pressed into the soft curls at the base of it. His thin and forked tongue wraps around Aziraphale's length in the wet heat of his mouth, poking out underneath and tickling the angel's balls as Crowley hisses with pleasure. His jaw is stretched wide, and Aziraphale's cock is pressed to the back of his throat as he swallows around it, dragging breathy moans and gasps from the angel as he does. His thin tongue undulates, soft strokes and caresses that build Aziraphale's pleasure as Crowley doesn't move, doesn't dare breathe.

There is danger in intimacy.There is more danger in theirs.

Crowley will always be the Serpent of Eden, cursed to crawl the earth upon his belly, eating dust and dirt as the stories say.They are just stories, of course, and he found his own loopholes for that.But no matter how much the flower he makes himself look, there will always be a serpent underneath.

His yellow eyes (golden, bright, shining -- gazing up with open adoration and devotion at Aziraphale now) are not his only marker.His tongue never quite fits in his mouth right, and when he forgets himself he has a tendency to hiss.But the real danger will always be his fangs.

They lie against the roof of his mouth, folded until ready to strike.Hellfire venom set and ready to flow through as soon as they sink into flesh, as soon as they tear it asunder.One prick into Aziraphale's flesh, and it doesn't bear thinking about.But Crowley wants to be on his knees, wants to be in supplication - so they find a workaround.

Aziraphale can feel the shape of them, smooth against his shaft as Crowley's tongue works around him, pulling him closer and building his release.His hand fisted in dark hair holds Crowley still, keeps him from moving.Aziraphale's hand grips the arm of the wingback chair hard enough to split the wood, but it doesn't because it wouldn't dare.He has to stay still for this, but it thrills him.

He puts his life in Crowley's hands, and his divinity in Crowley's mouth and trusts him not to bite.

It doesn't take long, spurred on by that damnable tongue that can do such weird things and the thrill of danger, for Aziraphale to spill hot down Crowley's throat with a strangled cry.The demon sits back on his haunches, letting Aziraphale slip wetly from between his lips.He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, flicks his tongue out to scent the air.

Danger is inherent to anything they do, even without their respective sides.

Aziraphale takes him by the hand, pulls him up into his lap and into a searing kiss, desperate and passionate, as he wraps his hand around Crowley's cock, determined to pay back the favor.


End file.
